


Sexed Out

by Deeranger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Arguing, Barebacking, Bottom Sam, Bottom Sam Winchester, Brother/Brother Incest, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Winchesters (Supernatural), Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Happy, Happy Winchesters (Supernatural), Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Play Fighting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sassy Dean Winchester, Sex, Sibling Incest, Silly, Surprise Sex, Top Dean Winchester, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeranger/pseuds/Deeranger
Summary: Sam is watching TV in the motel room when Dean decides that his choice of channel is not at all acceptable. And so, he fights to get his hands on the remote control and an argument quickly ensues - along with a whole lot more. But will Dean get his way?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	Sexed Out

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off the Tumblr prompt: "“Aww, is my little prince getting shy?”

”C’mon, Dean…” Sam complains, swatting his brother’s hand off his wrist when he tries – once again – to steal the TV remote.

  
”No, this is crap! You can’t possibly find this entertaining!?” Dean says, reaching for the plastic device at the end of Sam’s outstretched arm once more, but failing to actually snatch it.  
  


“Yes, I do!” Sam argues, shifting on the bed when Dean almost falls into his lap in his tireless attempt to grab the remote.

  
“Just look at their clothes! And what’s that shit on their faces? I thought you didn’t like clowns…!” Dean huffs, staring in dismay at the flickering TV screen.

  
“It’s called make-up, Dean! In the middle-ages, they used white lead to make themselves look pale. Toxic as hell, but it was kind of the beauty standard back when—“

  
“Blah, blah, sounds like you know a bit too much about dino cosmetics! Ever tried any?” Dean interrupts, nudging Sam in the side with an elbow before going for the remote again. Annoyed Sam twists away and once more Dean ends up draped across his lap, arms flailing to regain his balance.

  
“Dea- just stop! I’m watching this, alright?? Just go to bed!” Sam bursts out, eyes stubbornly glued to the TV screen as the medieval scene unfolds. Another huff escapes Dean, but he doesn’t move. Instead of getting back up into a sitting position he’s just lying in a heap, his head now resting on Sam’s thigh. Knitting his brows together in both confusion and annoyance Sam keeps watching the TV as the queen strides through the big marble hall in all of her splendor – but he can’t ignore how Dean is basically curled up on top of him like some sort of lap dog.

  
“But it’s boring…” Dean grumbles lowly.

  
“No, it isn’t. It’s actually pretty interesting. And historically accurate. Just look at how those court plasters are placed on her face like—”

  
A loud and exaggerated groan of disapproval instantly escapes Dean and cuts Sam off, reverberating in the motel room. Sam is pretty sure that their neighbors must be able to hear it through the thin walls and he can’t help but let out an irritated sigh – but that too is abruptly cut off when Dean’s fingers are suddenly popping open the button on his jeans.

  
“Whoa, hey, what’re you—“ he begins, but Dean just looks up at him with a sheepish look on his face:

  
“What’s it look like?” he says, a smirk tugging on his lips. Sam’s mouth drops open to spit out some sort of snarky reply, but nothing makes it out. Nothing coherent, that is. Because Dean’s hand has snaked into his underwear in a split second, calloused fingers wrapping around his dick and making him gasp.

  
“D-Dean…!” he manages to grit out when the fingers begin to stroke him, quickly causing the soft flesh to chub up.

  
“I’m- I’m not- you can’t just…” he gasps, but it dissolves into a moan when the pad of a thumb presses against his slit, rubbing back and forth across the sensitive head of his dick.

  
“Can’t what?” Dean purrs and moves his thumb in firm circles, slicking up the digit with the pre-cum that is apparently already starting to bead at the tip of Sam’s dick. Cursing at himself internally the young Winchester can’t quite comprehend just how easily his body reacts to his brother’s touch, and he bites his bottom lip in frustration.

  
“You can’t… Can’t just sex your way outta this!” he says, out of breath. But Dean just smiles up at him, his white teeth glinting in the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand. 

  
“Aww, is my little prince getting shy?” Dean asks, sending him a playful wink. The bastard actually winks at him! Sam is just about to protest, but before he gets the chance a warm mouth is suddenly engulfing his dick, full lips closing around it. Automatically his hips jerk a little from the unexpected overload of sensation and a strangled moan tumbles out of him.

  
“Fuck…!” he hisses, and suddenly his free hand is lost in Dean’s short hair, raking through the light brown strands, lightly tugging on them. The wet heat of his brother’s mouth is heavenly and a shudder rolls down Sam’s spine with enough force to almost knock the wind out of him – and he realizes that he has grown completely hard already. As saliva drools down his shaft and Dean’s chin he can’t help but let his head fall back, lips parting to let out another moan.

  
“You-You’re not playin’ fair…” he groans and somewhere he in the back of his mind he picks up on the remote slipping out of his hand. He doesn’t know if Dean has finally managed to steal it or if he just dropped it, but he doesn’t really care. A wet pop sounds when his brother pulls off his dick, spit-slick lips grinning up at him:

  
“’Course I am… Just look at you, you’re lovin’ this!” Dean says, letting his tongue dart out to lick a long stripe up the underside of Sam’s dick from root to tip. A shiver instantly rolls through the young hunter, goosebumps spreading everywhere as a smoldering fire starts to tickle somewhere in his loins.

  
“Aren’t you?” Dean asks and licks him again, making his dick twitch angrily. Pre-cum is now oozing from the slit, clear drops slowly running down his shaft only to get licked away by Dean’s velvety tongue. Sam presses his lips into a thin line, because he wants to protest, wants to tell his brother just what a manipulative bastard he is – but all too quickly his lips part and he lets out a moan instead. A way too wanton one.

  
“Yes… B-But…” Sam says, nearly wheezes, when his eyes roll back a little – because Dean is flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth over the V on the underside of his cockhead, following every little ridge and making him lose track of what he was going to say.

  
“But…? You’d rather watch TV?” Dean teases, treating Sam’s cock like melting ice cream as he smoothes his tongue over it, delivering a series of soft puppy licks.

  
“Just say the word… Say the word and I’ll stop,” Dean says, giving his little brother’s achingly hard dick a firm stroke, making it throb and bounce in excitement. Instantly a moan spills from Sam and his breath hitches in his throat.

  
“Fuck…” he groans, unable to find any of the words he knows he should be saying instead. He can feel Dean’s hot breath fanning over his dick, hitting it in quick puffs of humid air and he finds himself bucking his hips, subconsciously wanting to slip back into that amazing mouth. Dean chuckles.

  
“Just say the word, my prince,” he whispers, placing the softest of kisses right on the tip of Sam’s dick – and with that the last remnants of Sam’s willpower fades away, slipping away from him like it was never even there in the first place.

  
“Fuck… Fuck me…” he moans, staring down at Dean through hooded eyes. By now his pupils are so blown that they swallow up most of the hazel irises, and his hands are fumbling to grab a hold of his brother. A victorious smirk instantly spreads on Dean’s face and he tilts his head a little as he looks back up at Sam:

  
“Yeah? That’s what I thought,” he says – and suddenly he shoots back up, getting to his feet so fast that Sam has trouble keeping track of his movements even though his eyes are practically glued to him. Within a second or two Dean’s shirt is off, pulled over his head with a force strong enough to almost rip the flannel at its seams – and his jeans are treated no differently. As Dean yanks them down over his narrow waist and hips they fall to pool around his ankles, freeing his painfully hard dick. As it bounces up to slap against his belly Sam’s eyes widen, need flashing across his features and turning his eyes a shade darker.

  
“Get naked.”

  
The command delivered by Dean’s gravelly voice is blunt and wanton. Simple, even. Still, Sam has trouble obeying, because right now he is just staring at his brother, gaze locked on the thick length obscenely sticking out between his legs and drooling pre-cum. Mesmerized he fumbles to pull his jeans off, but it’s sort of awkward while sitting down – and before he has the chance to stand up, Dean has grabbed a hold of the denim and tugs at it, pulling the jeans off his long legs in one, swift movement.

  
“Turn around.”

  
Another command with no room for misunderstandings. But this one is easy to obey and Sam hurries to do so, scrambling to get on all fours in the already very tangled sheets. Without much thought he spreads his legs, eagerly presenting himself to his brother. Clutching the sheets in his hands he sticks his ass in the air a little, his mind already shrouded in a thick fog of need. _‘Like a bitch in heat,’_ his mind babbles somewhere in the back of his head. But he doesn’t care.

  
“Good boy,” Dean whispers in a throaty voice, and Sam’s dick twitches in response. As the mattress dips under his big brother’s weight, metal springs squeaking, he dips his head down to look in between his legs. He can see Dean positioning himself behind him, lining up as a broad hand grabs his hip. His heart skips a beat from the touch alone, expectation coursing through his veins and making him snap for air. Already there’s a coil in his abdomen just tightening and tightening and fueling the string of moans leaving his mouth in steady streams. He hadn’t even realized that he was making any sound.

  
“Ready for me, your highness?” Dean says and his voice has turned even more gravelly and husky, dropping into a deeper baritone. Sam instantly nods his head and another moan tumbles out of him when Dean nudges at his entrance just a little. He’s already lubed up, Sam notices. When he has had the time to do that he has no clue about, but he doesn’t care about that either. In fact, he wouldn’t even care if he hadn’t bothered to slick himself up at all.

  
“Yes…! Fuck, just… Just fuck me!” he whines, need washing through him with enough intensity to squeeze another drop of pre-cum out of him, blotching the sheets below. Another chuckle escapes his brother, but Sam can’t miss how it is dripping with need as well, the sound of it shaky and urgent. Just like his own.

  
“Your wish is my command,” Dean says breathlessly. And then he begins to push. A loud moan instantly slips out between Sam’s lips when he feels the blunt head of his brother’s dick press against his hole, slippery lube making it feel like silk. Hot and solid and smooth and perfect. He is so riled up that the sting and burn of the stretch doesn’t even make him wince like it usually does – and as Dean slips inside they both let out a guttural sound from deep in their chests. As the sound bounces around between the thin motel walls, Sam arches his back a little and pushes back against his brother, making him sink even deeper inside.

  
“Shit, Sammy… Oh, fuck…!” Dean grunts, both of his hands now gripping Sam’s hips and digging their fingertips into them. Snapping for air he stills, afraid that if he moves he’s going to come right here and right now. But the reaction is instant:

  
“Dean! Fuck me! Please, I need- I need you to fuck me!” Sam babbles desperately, his knuckles turning a milky white as he keeps clutching the sheets as if he’s holding on to them for dear life. Behind him Dean is breathing hard, his pelvis pressed flush against Sam’s ass as he tries to focus on not spilling his load too soon. 

  
“I-I can’t. I’m not gonna last—“

  
“I don’t care!” Sam gasps, letting go of the messy sheets with his right hand to wrap it around his dick. Beginning to pump himself he then rocks forwards, making Dean almost slip out of him – and then he moves back, impaling himself once again on the rock hard length. A shaky groan escapes his brother, and his entire body trembles as he squeezes his eyes shut, gone in a mix between utter lust and the battle of controlling his urge to just give in to it right away.

  
“Oh, shit, ohh, fuckkk…!” Sam groans and he sets a brutal pace, rocking back and forth. The vulgar sound of skin slapping against skin is raw and loud in the small room, and the air is heavy with the smell of sweat and musk. Jerking himself feverishly Sam can feel his balls drawing up and automatically his hole clenches around his brother, clamping down on him like a vice.

  
“Ahh! Sammy…!!” Dean grunts when he feels the snug fit of the channel hug his dick so tightly that it borders on painful – and he is pushed past the point of no return. Every muscle in his body tenses up and goes rigid, and his breath is punched out of him in quick and shallow puffs. As his back begins to arch he can’t help but grip Sam’s hips tighter, his hips bucking of their own accord as he mindlessly chases his orgasm.

  
“Fuck me! Fuck me, Dean!!!” Sam rasps hoarsely, mind gone as it is completely taken over by need, resonating in every bone and bouncing off every nerve ending just to hit the next one in a burst of white-hot lust. He can feel Dean grow impossibly hard inside of him – and even bigger – and he feels so incredibly full that he can’t hold back a primal roar, sending him tumbling over the edge. His vision instantly turns a brilliant white, sparkly dots of light sailing around aimlessly as he tugs on his cock hard enough to almost chafe himself.

  
“Oh, fuck, I’m cummin’, I’m—” Dean groans, almost wheezes, and in the same moment Sam feels him plunge in as deep as he can possibly go, ropes of cum gushing from his cock in hot spurts. As the sticky liquid coats his insides Sam lets out a cry, back arching and every muscle flexing under the tanned skin as he cramps, following his brother over the edge.

  
“Dean!!” he cries in something close to a scream and he jerkily pumps his cock a few more times – and the orgasm finally hits him like a derailed freight train. Stars explode in his field of vision, a mental white-out swallowing him whole and ripping him apart. As the world turns itself inside out and back again in his mind, semen splatters up on his chest and down on the sheets, white globs covering his hands and fingers and belly and everywhere. Gone in bliss, small spasms keep coursing through him – and it feels like he just keeps coming, like the climax is never going to end. He has apparently forgotten how to breathe as well. All he can do is feel. Somewhere he can hear his brother moaning behind him, and he jerks as the sensory overload finally starts to die down, returning his mind to him. Well, almost. 

  
As Sam’s body still squeezes Dean so hard that it is making him gasp and groan, his dick is slowly going soft inside of him, milked dry and turning hypersensitive. As it slowly shrinks semen is allowed to dribble out around it and trickle down Sam’s thighs in sticky streams that glisten in the dim light.

  
Heaving for air they both then finally collapse on to the tangled and cum-stained sheets, Dean draped over his little brother’s back and his dick still inside of him, slightly twitching.

  
“Holy shit…” Sam pants, completely out of breath and with his face buried in the pillow. On top of him, Dean breathes heavily into the crook of his neck, trying to regain his composure. For a moment they just lie there together, entangled in each other’s limbs and bathed in the flickering light from the TV screen, enjoying the post-orgasmic bliss and the sweaty skin-on-skin contact.

  
“That was…” Dean says but trails off into silence. Inhaling deeply he places a soft kiss on Sam’s feverishly warm skin before he decides to roll off him, carefully slipping his now flaccid dick out of him. As the soft length is pulled out of the stretched hole, more semen follows it and pools on the sheets between Sam’s legs.

  
“... Amazing,” Sam says, finishing Dean’s sentence as his brother lays himself down on his back next to him, sprawled in a boneless heap in the mess of soiled sheets and pillows.

  
“Better than that stupid TV show?” Dean asks into the air, staring at the ceiling as he still rides the wave of the best orgasm he has had in a long time. A huff escapes Sam as he turns onto his back as well, letting out a sated sigh.

  
“Hell yeah,” he says, a small laugh escaping him. A content humming noise leaves Dean and he props himself up on an elbow to look down at his smiling little brother:

  
“So, can I have it?” he asks, studying Sam’s face as his expression changes into a confused one. Still slightly dazed he turns his head to look at Dean:

  
“Have what?”

  
Dean just laughs at Sam’s question, softly tugging an escaped strand of hair back behind his ear.

  
“The remote,” he then dead-pans and sends him a brilliant smile. For a moment Sam looks completely oblivious – like he really has no idea what a remote has to do with any of this. Then he just frowns in bafflement, looking up at Dean as a small grin slowly spreads on his face.

  
“You’re a dick,” he says, his dimples deepening when he can’t hold back a laugh.

  
“No, I _have_ a dick. And I’m not afraid to use it,” Dean retorts, reaching over Sam to pick up the TV remote halfway buried in the sheets.

  
“Figures… Slut,” Sam smiles, too spent now to care if Dean changes the channel.

  
“Look who’s talking… Bitch.”

  
“… Jerk.”   
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
